Bikers for Babies - they all have a story.

Warning: it's a lengthy post tonight... feel free to skip right to the photographs and the last paragraph!

Ian and I spent part of our morning today on a highway overpass, watching the 19th annual March of Dimes Bikers for Babies. Kansas City has the largest Bikers for Babies event in the country; 6,000+ bikers started their ride from the Kansas Speedway and headed south on 435. In years past, because of my job, our family has had the opportunity to see the starting line and the opening ceremonies from the inside of the Speedway. It's incredibly impressive to see that many motorcycles all lined up waiting to ride together as a group. You can not imagine the noise all those revving engines make. 

But today, I wasn't working! Ian and I staked out a great viewing spot on the Kansas Avenue bridge over 435 before the bikes made an exit on K-32 to head west. As we waited, several other cars joined us on the bridge. One family brought a big flag and draped it over the side of the bridge. One family had made a sign that said "Thank you for riding! We love you!" A group of bikers stopped to take pictures before getting back on the highway below to continue their ride. Everyone on the bridge had a reason they were there. One was a grandpa whose granddaughter was a 1 pound 10 ounce 25-weeker who spent 7 months at St. Luke's NICU. He took out pictures from his wallet to show me how "normal" she looked. One family had a daughter who had been a preemie with a 2 month NICU stay. Two parents were there wearing their matching t-shirts with a picture of their twins with the words "Riding for Aubry". We all had our story to share.

The bikers started out in small numbers, only one or two at a time, interspersed between cars and trucks. Within 10 or 15 minutes, the groups of bikes started getting bigger. In no time at all, I realized that I had snapped 168 photographs from the bridge. 

My favorite pictures are the single shots of the riders. They all have their own style of waving: peace-sign, thumbs-up, high-5, love-sign, power-to-the-people, we're-number-one... we definitely felt the love up there. I think I've said it before: I'm a novice at taking pictures. I'm still working out the whole shutter-speed/f-stop/ISO thing... those darn bikes were moving pretty fast, so none of my pics today will win any awards. Some are a little fuzzy, but the individuality is still fun to see. 

Behind the hard exterior, the leather chaps, the tattoos and the noisy bike, all you have to do is ask one of them why they ride in this event. They immediately melt and soften, usually pull out a photograph from their inside vest pocket and tell you a story. It's my story, too. I simply love this day.

Due north.

 "I know my moral compass doesn't exactly point due north, but if I say something's wrong, something's wrong." In the movie, 27 Dresses, actress Judy Greer recites this line to Katherine Heigl's character. Katherine, who is a people-pleaser and usually so nice, has just finished a very unkind, publicly humiliating rant towards her sister, played by Malin Ackerman. Rather than lecturing and being judgmental towards her best friend, Judy replies with the moral compass comment. That scene, and in particular, that line, has always stuck with me. 

The idea of always pointing exactly due north all the time is sometimes challenging. How far off of north do I sway? Usually, only a tad. A bit. Slightly. Perhaps, 1:00 rather than 12-noon. Kind of like the pictures below, where every line is angled just slightly askew.

 

I've never sailed. Watching the sailboats this weekend was fun; there were so many of them. They start from the north and as a group of about 15 or 20 boats, they all sail to the south, circling around buoys in several figure-eight formations, and then head back to the starting point.The amount of effort to "right" the boat from tipping over into the water when it's listing so far to one side seems incredibly difficult. It takes more than one person leaning as far back as possible to keep that delicate balance between staying afloat and submerging.

In times when I have revealed the less-than flattering side of me, I cherish the friends who care enough about me to say the words that set me straight and keep me afloat, and not stand by as I completely submerge.

23 days & a wake-up

Twenty-three days and a wake-up.  But who's counting? When Kelly leaves Afghanistan in 23 days, on September 30th, it'll take him a full week to get back to Kansas City, via Kuwait City & Ft. Bliss, TX. That's thirty days and a wake-up for us. When he left on January 6th, it seemed like October was such a long way off, and yet, here we are. Just 23 more days and a wake-up!

In some ways, our lives have gone through many changes over the past nine months. Plans have been unexpectedly rearranged. Things didn't go exactly the way we had anticipated. There have been some ups and downs. Most of those changes seemed to happen outside of our control. 

One of the changes I purposefully made in April was a dedicated effort to my health; physical and mental health. I became reacquainted with my bicycle, walking shoes and yoga mat. The local bike trails have helped me to clear my mind, reduce stress and enjoy the beauty of our area. The moderate temperatures this spring and summer have been a blessing and made for perfect riding and walking. This summer, I joined a weekly, early morning yoga class at the marina of Shawnee Mission Lake; about 15-20 people gathered at 6:45 am to watch the sun rise, listen to the geese & birds and feel the breeze as we attempted to hold poses on a gently swaying dock. 

Last week, Ian had the opportunity to mow a friend's pasture, so I slung my camera around my neck and brought my bike along and rode trails and roads I'd never been on before. It was a beautiful cool morning and the sun broke through the trees along the pathways.